The Real Reason Aizen Turned Traitor
by Sariniste
Summary: What if a six-year-old Aizen had to go to elementary school in the US? What horrible crimes might it have driven him to? Pure crack, AU. No pairings.


**The Real Reason Aizen Turned Traitor**

**A/N:** What if a six-year-old Aizen had to go to elementary school in the US? What horrible crimes might it have driven him to? Pure crack, AU. No pairings. Dedicated to Cherry Duck, because she requested it. :)

Also, I've long wondered about the possible relationship between Aizen and Unohana… not that this is supposed to have anything to do with canon. ;) In this story, Unohana is Aizen's mother. Remember, just crack…

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach.

(Originally posted 6/5/2011.)

XxXxXxX

The tall, brown-haired woman walked into the red brick school building, holding the hand of a little boy with tousled brown hair and wide, curious brown eyes. The wind had turned cold in the past week, and only a few yellow leaves were clinging to the branches of the maple trees in front of the school. The woman turned into the building and walked down the hall, her heels clicking against the green linoleum and echoing around the empty halls.

The little boy looked up at her and thought how beautiful she looked, with a calm expression, thick, long brown hair swept smoothly back from her face and brought into a heavy, wide braid halfway down her back, striding down the hall with a briefcase in her hand. He looked ahead again at the dark building surrounding them, and thought once again how much he hated it. He hated being separated from his mother, being forced to leave the bright home full of books, interesting toys, and the freedom to explore. Being brought into this place, where people told him to sit still and listen to endlessly boring things, to shut up and do what he was told. Where he had to spend six hours a day, six hours of precious time that could be spent trying to find out more things to _know_.

His mother looked back down at him and smiled, thinking how much she loved this little boy with his sharp, intelligent eyes, his eager curiosity as though the world were a fascinating place that he couldn't wait to become more a part of. Although lately, it seemed that there was less eagerness in his curiosity, more… she hesitated over thinking it… darkness. It had all begun since he had started going to school. She had seen it, had seen the light in his eyes change with each passing day. But what could she do? It was the law that children had to go to school, and she had to follow the law. No matter what.

At the end of the hall, she knocked on the door that said, "Office."

A blonde woman with heavily made-up eyes and lips the color of pink bubblegum let her in. "Ah, Mrs., uh, Unohana," she said, lips stretched in a wide smile, "please come in." Her eyes flicked to the little boy with the woman and her smile faltered slightly. "Mrs. Tucket will be ready for you shortly. Please have a seat." She indicated the row of plastic chairs at one side of the room, surrounded by two identical artificial potted plants.

The woman sat down, her son sitting quietly beside her. He started looking around the room, but soon started kicking his legs against the chair, making a loud thumping noise until his mother told him to sit still. Bored, he spotted a daddy longlegs crawling along the floor and began peering at it intently. It crawled under the chair and he tracked it with his eyes, bending over until his head was hanging between his legs. Finally, he slipped off the seat and stuck his head under the seat, watching the movement of its elegant, jointed legs with fascination. He watched the sequence of leg motions and wondered whether it always moved the legs in the same order.

The blonde behind the desk in the office frowned at the boy's antics and whispered something to the older brunette working with her. The brunette snorted and glanced once at the boy, then returned her eyes to her work.

The door to the principal's office opened and a short woman with dyed platinum blonde hair and gray roots came out. Her upper arms and belly strained at the tight fabric of a low-cut pink nylon blouse. She wore dark blue eyeshadow and had painted her thin lips red. "Mrs. Unohana," she said, holding out a hand with long red fingernails with slightly chipped edges. "Please come in." She glanced at the little boy, and her lips twitched in a slight grimace. "Hello, Sousuke."

The boy sat up straight, turning from the spider to stare at her, not returning the greeting, his face neutral and his eyes shuttered.

"Thank you for seeing us, Mrs. Tucket," the brown-haired woman said softly.

The principal frowned slightly but turned her gaze back to the mother as they entered her office. A number of diplomas in black plastic frames hung from the green-painted walls. Two more artificial potted palms stood in the corners. An oversized desk with a wood-laminate top dominated the room. Behind it was a large high-backed faux-leather chair with armrests. Mrs. Tucket sat down heavily in the chair and gestured the two to straight-backed chairs lined up neatly in front of the desk.

"Now, Mrs. Unohana, we're here to discuss Sousuke's behavior problems in Mrs. Landon's class. Apparently he is disruptive, especially during math class. I also have a note that he was inciting the other students to disobey the teacher's instructions." She gave the young boy a stern glance and he returned it, staring at her with no expression. "I'm concerned, Mrs. Unohana, that your son may need a psychological evaluation."

"Yes. I understand that they are working on adding single digit numbers in the first grade math class—"

The principal interrupted, "That is correct. It's the standard first grade curriculum. But Sousuke refuses to sit still and fill out his worksheets."

"Mrs. Tucket, I informed you before Sousuke started school that he was already doing long division at age four. Wouldn't it be possible for him to have more advanced math problems?"

The blonde pursed her lips. "Mrs. Landon is very busy, and can't take time to create special assignments for your son."

"Well, can he be moved into a more advanced class? Or accelerated into second grade?"

The principal frowned. "I don't think Sousuke's behavior indicates that it would be in his best interest to be skipped a grade. He's immature and disruptive."

"Isn't it possible that someone who understands square roots and logarithms might become disruptive when forced to sit in a classroom writing fifty single-digit addition problems? He's working at least at a fifth-grade level. Can you imagine putting a fifth-grader in a first-grade classroom?" The brown-haired woman slid a loose-leaf notebook out of her briefcase and laid it on the desk. "I have here the results of Sousuke's IQ tests, Mrs. Tucket, and they indicate that he is profoundly gifted—"

The principal shook her head, lips pinched together. "Oh, no, Mrs. Unohana, at Summerset Academy, we believe that _every _child is gifted. It would be unfair to the other children to say that Sousuke was somehow… better than them." She sneered. "Now, you may have IQ tests there," she waved a hand dismissively, "but we believe emotional intelligence is more important than IQ. We also believe that six-year-olds should attend first grade." She grimaced. "Period. It's not good for their development to be placed with children older than them."

"Do you truly believe that all six-year-olds should never spend time with older children? That they should all be learning the identical material?"

"Oh yes. So-called giftedness doesn't really exist; it all evens out by third grade anyway."

The brown-haired woman leaned forward, indicating the binder. "But Sousuke's IQ results indicate that his abilities are unique to one child in ten thousand. And the evidence is that he is performing at a level far higher than first grade. He's already reading advanced books, adult science books, literature."

"Mrs. Unohana." The principal's voice was dismissive. "I realize that, as a parent, you believe that your child is exceptional." Her nose wrinkled with disgust. "But here, we are experts in child education, and we see many children. We've seen many boys like your son, and believe me, his only difference is that he doesn't know how to follow the rules." She smiled thinly. "Of course, with a little support from his parents, we can soon make sure that he learns to behave just like anyone else. Now, Mrs. Unohana, you surely don't want your son to grow up to be a delinquent, do you?"

The woman looked at her little boy. He looked back up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "Has he done anything to make you believe that he might be a delinquent?"

The principal pursed her lips and sniffed. "Well. Mrs. Landon says he is constantly being rude to her in class. He speaks without raising his hand and criticizes her."

The mother looked at her son. "Are you rude to Mrs. Landon?"

The boy raised his eyes to her. "She told us it was important to learn to spell correctly, but then she wrote 'coming' on the board as 'c-o-m-m-i-n-g.' And she misquoted the distributive property in math class." His voice was soft. "The other children believe whatever she says is correct. I just thought that it wouldn't be good for them to be taught wrong. And I used to raise my hand first before pointing out her mistakes, but now she never calls on me."

The principal said in a harsh tone, "See? He even admits his misbehavior."

The mother said gently, "It sounds like he has the best of intentions, though, trying to help the other children learn."

"Mrs. Unohana, Sousuke is in school not to have good intentions, but to learn to do what he is told. And respect for the teacher is one of the first things he needs to learn."

"Well—" his mother began, but the principal interrupted her.

"Even worse, he was found leading a group of boys on the playground, stuffing the storm drain with paper towels. Water was backing up; it could have flooded the entire school! Mrs. Unohana, it was shocking to me to see a six-year-old vandalizing the school. Normally we don't see this type of malicious behavior until fourth or fifth grade at the very least."

"Sousuke," the woman asked her son, "is this true?"

The boy hung his head and kicked at the rungs on his chair. "Well, I had just been reading this book about hydroelectricity, Mommy, and I thought it would be interesting to see how a dam worked—"

"Sousuke!" the principal interrupted. "We don't use swear words at Summerset Academy!"

The mother turned to the blonde. "I believe he was talking about a barrier constructed across a river, Mrs. Tucket, like a hydroelectric dam."

The principal sneered. "It's going to be hard for Sousuke to grow up to be a productive member of society if his parents keep coddling him and enabling his bad behavior, Mrs. Unohana."

"It sounds to me like he's bored for six hours a day in a class that's not right for him, Mrs. Tucket. I'm not surprised that he would act out at recess. Can we talk about allowing him to learn?"

The principal sighed. "Mrs. Unohana. We are discussing his behavior and social skills here. Until he learns to sit quietly and obey his teachers, we are not going to reward him with special assignments or advanced placement."

"Is it really a reward to be allowed to learn new material in school?"

The principal's eyes narrowed. "Now, Mrs. Unohana, sarcasm is not what I expect to hear from you. Your son is very fortunate to be able to receive such a fine education from our dedicated teachers. We think it's best if parents left education to the professionals. For example, you should stop teaching Sousuke at home. He'll get too far ahead, and then of course he'll be bored in school."

"You want me to hold him back, keep advanced books out of his hands?"

"Of course. He should only be reading the correctly leveled first grade texts. Your teaching him advanced math is just leading him into trouble."

The mother sat back, sighed. "But I didn't teach him anything," she said softly. "He found the books on his own. He's a curious boy, and he soaks up information like a sponge."

"Well." The principal's voice became slightly shrill. "It's your job to keep those books out of his hands. Let the professionals do the teaching. Do you really think, as a _parent_, you know better than us?" Her voice dripped scorn as she uttered the word 'parent.' "Besides, there are plenty of children who are eager for a spot at this school. If Sousuke can't behave, we'll have to give his place to someone else." Her voice was smug.

Sousuke's mother shrank in on herself. "Oh, no, I'm sure it won't come to that," she said quickly. "Sousuke's father is determined for him to attend Summerset Academy. I'm sure Sousuke can learn to act appropriately." She looked at the boy beside her. "Can't you, Sousuke?"

The boy looked up at her appraisingly, eyes tracing over the fear on her face. It seemed that it was going to be necessary to wear a mask in school so that his mother would remain happy. He glanced back at the principal. It would be easy to fool her with playacting. He could hide his real self deep within. "Of course, Mommy." His serious face took on a mild smile. "I would be happy to behave appropriately for Mrs. Tucket."

The principal smirked. "That's better, Sousuke." She stood up and held out her hand to the woman. "Just make sure he understands he needs to behave from now on, and I'm sure we'll all get along great."

As the two in front of her stood up to take their leave, the principal cleared her throat. "And one more thing, Mrs. Unohana," she said. "I think Sousuke needs glasses."

The mother looked down at her son, unsure. The boy looked up at her and she saw something deep within his eyes, something that she had never seen before, and it made her uneasy. "Yes, Mommy," he said softly. "I would like to have glasses."

"Of course," she said, and they walked out together. The wind had whipped up the branches of the maple trees even more fiercely, and the last few leaves were being tugged from their branches and shot downwind. As they walked back to the car, the mother's shoulders slumped, and the boy watched the bright yellow leaves vanish like specks in the distance.


End file.
